System Overload

by Mark Cheverton

  Out of the corner of his eye, Gameknight saw one of the warriors at the end of the line fall. Zombies swarmed over him, then tried to wrap around their flank to attack from behind. But a wave of furry white figures flew out from behind the defense wall and held the line. Herder and his wolves stopped the advancing monsters, keeping the line intact.

  Someone cried out in pain as sharp claws found NPC flesh. The person next to Gameknight flashed red as he took damage. The User-that-is-not-a-user slashed at the monsters in front of him, trying to draw them to him, but the zombies didn’t fall for his trick and continued their attacks, causing more warriors to yell out in pain.

  “Gameknight, we must fall back!” Digger shouted as he smashed a zombie with his pick, then shoved another in the chest with his shield.

  “OK,” he replied. “Start backing up! Archers: increase your fire!”

  As the warriors slowly backed up, the air grew dark with pointed shafts, causing the front rank of zombies to slow.

  “Now!” Gameknight shouted. “Everyone behind the walls!”

  The warriors spun and bolted for the narrow openings in the rocky fortification, while archers fired through holes in the cobblestone walls, allowing their friends to get behind the defensive structure. Gameknight waited for the others to squeeze through the narrow openings, following them only after everyone else had made it safely inside. Moving along the back of the fortification, Gameknight sealed all of the entrances, blocking the monsters off.

  “Move forward!” the zombie general growled. “ATTACK!”

  The zombies charged and began to pound on the stone wall. Gameknight heard the stone being chipped away, piece by piece, by sharp claws. Some of the blocks began to show the smallest of cracks. While the decaying creatures smashed their fists against the barrier, others climbed on top of their brothers and sisters in an attempt to get over the top of the barricade, creating a living stairway of zombie flesh.

  “They’re climbing over the walls!” someone shouted.

  “We need to run away,” another said.

  “No! Stand your ground!” Gameknight shouted. “Our escape is not ready yet. We have nowhere to go.” He turned and scanned the sea of faces that were staring at him, their eyes filled with fear. “My friend Impafra used to say, ‘If you can’t retreat … then attack!’ Come on!”

  He was about to charge forward when one of the diggers from the escape tunnel ran toward them, screaming.

  “We did it, we did it!” he yelled. “The tunnel is complete. We can get to the surface.”

  “Maybe we should choose ‘retreat’ after all,” Hunter said with a laugh.

  “Good call. Everyone: RETREAT!” Gameknight shouted.

  The NPCs all turned and fled. They bolted to the far end of the crevasse just as the green wave of zombies crested over the fortified wall. As they ran for the exit, Gameknight could hear cobblestone blocks shattering under the assault of zombie claws. Loud roars came from the zombie army as they followed their prey.

  At the end of the crevasse, a neat, rectangular hole had been carved into the wall, with steps that disappeared into the darkness. Torches were placed on either side of the opening, pushing aside the shadows of late afternoon.

  Suddenly, a loud, booming roar of anger echoed off the sheer stone walls. Gameknight instantly recognized the voice; it was Xa-Tul, the king of the zombies.

  “Hurry,” Crafter said as he stepped to the side of the tunnel entrance and waited for everyone to pass him.

  Gameknight moved to his friend’s side and waited as well. He drew his bow and began to fire at the approaching horde; Crafter did the same—but the zombies were closing. Fortunately, their clumsy shuffle caused them to move much slower than NPCs. In addition, Herder had commanded his wolves to harass their pursuers. The wolves were darting in and out of the zombie formation, nipping at a leg here and an arm there, slowing their progress.

  When the last of the villagers had reached the top of the steps, Herder whistled for the wolves, then ran up himself amidst a wave of fur.

  “Gameknight, go,” Crafter said. “I’ll seal up the tunnel.”

  The User-that-is-not-a-user nodded his head and fled up the stairs. He looked back to see Crafter placing blocks of cobblestone on the steps, just as decaying green arms reached toward him. Xa-Tul bellowed another angry wail, his guttural moan stabbing at Gameknight’s courage like a rusty knife. This time, the zombies stopped their attack and pulled their decaying arms out of the open gaps in the partially-blocked passage.

  Gameknight moved forward and peeked through one of the openings. He could see the monsters turning around and walking away. For some reason, Xa-Tul had recalled his forces, rather than commanding them to continue the attack.

  Gameknight glanced at Crafter with surprise on his face. The young leader shrugged, then continued placing blocks of stone until there were three layers of cobblestone and dirt between the monsters and the villagers. When he was convinced that the wall would hold, he turned and ran up the stairs, Gameknight999 beside him.

  “Crafter, did we lose anyone?”

  The young NPC nodded his blond head. “We lost some,” the NPC replied.

  Gameknight sighed.

  “But it would have been worse if you didn’t have us prepare those defenses,” Crafter added. “That was good thinking.”

  “But we shouldn’t have lost any!” Gameknight snapped as waves of guilt raked his soul. “This was a disaster.”

  “What are you talking about?” Crafter asked. “We found our imprisoned friends.”

  “But they’re still captives,” he replied. “I didn’t do anything to get them free. They probably think I abandoned them.”

  “That’s nonsense,” Crafter chided. “They have faith in you, just like all of us do. You’ll figure out a way to come back and rescue them, I have no doubt.”

  Gameknight sighed. He had to figure out some way to get past all those zombies, but it seemed impossible. The only thing he could think about was all the ways they might succumb to the claws of that massive army … victory seemed impossible.

  “Come on, we’ll figure this out later,” Crafter said. “Let’s get back home and make a plan.”

  Gameknight nodded as he tried to hide the uncertainty and fear that filled him.

  The duo reached the top of the stairs just as the sun began to kiss the horizon, causing the skyline to blush a warm orange, then fade to red.

  “Is everyone alright?” Gameknight asked.

  He could see many of the NPCs were wounded, and pieces of their armor were cracked or missing. Some of the villagers were weeping for fallen comrades, while others burned with rage.

  “I’m sorry that was such a pointless rescue attempt,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said solemnly. “All I did was get a bunch of villagers hurt and killed.”

  “No!” Stitcher snapped. “We did more than that.” She stepped forward and glared up at the User-that-is-not-a-user. “We found the ancient zombie town, and we know where our friends are being held. Information is power, right Crafter?”

  “She is indeed correct,” Crafter replied.

  “All we need now is a plan to free those prisoners and stop the zombies at the same time.” Stitcher stepped closer to Gameknight and spoke in a low voice. “We need the User-that-is-not-a-user to help us to save our friends. Is the User-that-is-not-a-user I know still in there?” She poked his diamond chest plate with a stubby finger. “Or have you forgotten how to try your best in the face of adversity?”

  Gameknight looked down at the young girl, and tried to give her a smile, but all he managed was a sickly grimace.

  “When I think of how we might save those villagers and stop the zombies, all I see is disaster,” Gameknight said softly.

  “You know what I see?” Herder asked in a loud voice. “A problem that has a solution; you just haven’t found it yet.”

  “Gameknight, when I look at you, I see a user that is not afraid to act,” Crafter added. “When
no one else knows what to do, you are able to come up with something.”

  “Yeah, but what if that something gets villagers killed?”

  “You can’t control everything, and you can’t ever know the outcome of your choices before you make them,” Crafter said. “All you can do is make the best decisions you can, and accept the consequences. But more importantly, we need to look for the positive outcomes, rather than focusing on the negative. You think you just put us all in a terrible battle, and it’s your fault, right?”

  “It sure seems that way,” the User-that-is-not-a-user replied.

  “You know what all of us think?” Crafter asked.

  The other villagers put away their weapons and stared at Gameknight999, their eyes filled with compassion.

  “We think you found the villagers that were taken prisoner, and you discovered where all the zombies are hiding,” Crafter said. “This is a good thing, and yet all you are doing is focusing on the bad. If you want to feel good, then focus on the good. But if you want to feel bad, then keep doing what you’re doing now. But I promise you, it won’t get you anywhere.”

  The villagers were completely silent as Gameknight considered his friend’s words.

  “You get to choose your fate … feel good or feel bad. Just choose, and deal with the consequences,” Crafter continued, an edge to his voice. “But don’t make a foolish choice because you’re looking for a reason to feel sorry for yourself. There are people here who care about you and rely on you.”

  Gameknight knew Crafter was right. A sheepish look spread across his face.

  “You know what I feel?” Hunter asked.

  All eyes shifted to her.

  “Hungry!” she said with a smile.

  The villagers laughed.

  “What do you say we get back to a village, get some food, and tend to our wounded? Then we’ll come back here and take care of these zombies,” Hunter suggested.

  The villagers cheered in approval.

  Gameknight glanced at her and smiled as she gave him a wink.

  “OK, which way?” Gameknight asked.

  “The closest village is that way,” Crafter said, pointing at the setting sun.

  “Then let’s get moving,” Hunter said. “I don’t want to resort to eating some zombie flesh … I have a feeling that might make me sick.”

  “Let’s go,” Digger said. “None of us want to see that.”

  The army moved out with a ring of wolves around them, heading for the savannah village. As they walked through the darkening landscape, Gameknight thought for a long time about Crafter’s advice…. Choose your fate.

  CHAPTER 13

  SPIES

  Feyd paced impatiently around the End, glaring at the pale yellow landscape that was his prison. His endermen had been sent out into the Overworld to search for his enemy, Gameknight999, but it had been days and the king of the endermen still hadn’t heard any news. Frustration grew with every minute he waited, and with each growing moment, he felt an increasingly strong desire to punch something … or someone.

  Suddenly, Feyd realized that he felt momentarily weak. His HP was getting low, and as he was lost in angry thoughts, he had forgotten to replenish it. Gathering his teleportation powers, he zipped across the insipid island to a cluster of endermen. When he materialized, he waited to feel that rush of energy that came from feasting on the teleportation particles that surrounded his body, rejuvenating of his HP, but it was more like a trickle of health than a tidal wave.

  A roar sounded from high overhead. The king of the endermen peered upward. The Ender Dragon banked in a large arc as it glided from obsidian pillar to pillar. The ornate cubes that floated in a wreath of flames around the top of the pillars, the Ender crystals, answered the creature’s call and shot out a shaft of healing light that hit the flying creature square in the chest. The dragon beat its huge leathery wings as its HP increased.

  Feyd felt his energy slowly build as the teleportation particles eventually refreshed his health. He smiled as his HP increased to maximum. But that smile soon turned to a frown.

  That took longer than ever before for my HP to rejuvenate, Feyd thought. Whatever’s happening, it’s getting worse, and it must have something to do with the User-that-is-not-a-user.

  He must be found, and soon, the enderman king decided. If the teleportation particles stop completely, then all the endermen will starve.

  As if it could hear Feyd’s thoughts, the dragon roared again and stared down at the king of the endermen. Feyd glanced up at the monster and sighed. He wished the dragon still had the glowing eyes of Herobrine, but that had ended when the Maker had been destroyed.

  “I wouldn’t have thought it would be possible for Gameknight999 to defeat Herobrine in dragon form,” the king of the endermen said to himself. “We underestimated you again, User-that-is-not-a-user, but soon your time will come.”

  The endermen around him looked at their king, unsure if they should respond. But before any could work up the courage to say something, the shadowy monster king teleported again, zipping across the End at the speed of thought.

  An enderman appeared before him. It was a smaller creature, not yet full-grown, but already able to teleport with pinpoint accuracy. Something was odd about its appearance … something not quite right. And then Feyd realized what was different: it had appeared without any purple teleportation particles surrounding it. As if on cue, the lavender mist then materialized a few seconds later … on some sort of a strange delay. Something was definitely going wrong with Minecraft.

  There is a mystery here that I don’t understand, Feyd thought, and I don’t like mysteries.

  “I have news about the zombies,” the creature said, then stepped back away from the dark red king.

  Feyd held out his arm and examined it for a moment, then glanced back to the enderman before him. Feyd’s skin was a dark, dark red, like the color of dried blood, while the other endermen were black as coal. That was how Herobrine had created him. The Maker, after creating Feyd, had told him the dark red was to remind Gameknight999 of Erebus, the first king of the endermen. Erebus had been created back during the Great Zombie Invasion, a hundred years ago, and had been destroyed by the User-that-is-not-a-user right after his appearance on the servers. Even though Feyd had never met Erebus, he swore that he would avenge the death of his predecessor.

  The dark creature before him shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

  “Ahhh … what did you say?” Feyd asked. “Something about the zombies? You were supposed to be searching for the User-that-is-not-a-user.”

  “Yes, Sire,” the subordinate replied. “Ahh … well … during my search, I came across the zombies, and they are doing something strange.”

  “Well … are you going to tell me?”

  “They are swelling their numbers and creating a vast army. They have abandoned their zombie-towns and have moved to the ancient towns used during the Great Zombie Invasion.”

  “Why would they do that?” Feyd asked.

  The subordinate wisely stayed silent.

  “What targets are they attacking?” the enderman king asked.

  “That’s the strange thing, Sire. They aren’t attacking anything.”

  “What?” Feyd mused. “I don’t understand. Explain yourself immediately.”

  “The zombies are just flowing out of their portal chambers and congregating in the ancient zombie-towns,” the young enderman explained. “They have to be coming from somewhere. I assume it is from the other zombie-towns. But when I teleported to the other ancient zombie-towns, I found them all occupied, and they don’t look like they’re going anywhere anytime soon. All of the zombie-towns are somehow increasing their numbers, and with their population growing, the smell in those zombie-towns is almost unbearable. I don’t know where the extra zombies are coming from.”

  Endermen hated the stench of the decaying monsters. There had been a time when an endermen’s greatest joy was to clean themselves, and o
nce they had even bathed in streams and rivers. But that had been before the Great Zombie Invasion. Now, water was poison to them, burning their skin like acid. The ability to clean their bodies had been forever taken from them—a punishment following the failed zombie war.

  “So you’re telling me that the zombie king is gathering zombies, but they’re not coming from the zombie-towns,” the king said.

  The enderman nodded his dark square head.

  “And that there are many more zombies in the ancient zombie-towns than there should be?”

  The young enderman nodded again.

  “And that they are attacking nothing, just standing around in the old caverns?”

  “That is correct,” the dark creature replied.

  “Curious,” the endermen king said as he went over this puzzling news in his head.

  Eventually, Feyd let out an ear-piercing screech that cut through the silence of the End like a needle through soft flesh. The remaining endermen instantly peered in his direction, then teleported to him. Their dark bodies materialized around him, some with an instant coating of purple mist, some with delayed lavender particles. The monsters stared at each other nervously, waiting for instructions from their leader.

  “Brothers and sisters, the zombies are up to something and we must know what,” Feyd said in a high-pitched voice. “They are amassing a huge army and we need to know why. Their target must be identified so that the endermen can be on hand to ensure their victory. Without our teleportation powers, the zombies are useless.

  “We need information. I order all of you go to the Overworld. Stay in the shadows, watch and listen,” the king of the endermen commanded. “Bring back everything you learn to me. I am sure the User-that-is-not-a-user is somehow involved, and the endermen have a score to settle with him. If we can keep an eye on the zombies and get even with Gameknight999 at the same time … then all the better.” Feyd’s eyes began to glow white as the mention of his enemy’s name brought forth a rage from deep within him. “NOW GO!”